The Princes

THE PRINCES

They gather the beans, gather the beans,
In their baskets square and round:
The princes all are coming to court,
And where shall their gifts be found?
The coaches of state and their teams go by,
What more for my lords have I?
Dark coloured robes with a dragon fine,
And silken skirts with the hatchet sign.

Clear bubbles the spring, bubbles the spring,
Around they gather the cress:
The princes all are coming to court,
Their banners the winds caress.
The dragon flag in the breezes swells,
To the hwuy-hwuy sound of the bells.
With two outside, the teams go past,
These are the princes come at last.

Red covers the knee, covers the knee:
Their buskins are red below.
Lofty bearing and stately mien,
Yonder my princes go.
In such the Son of Heaven delights,
The king shall renew their rights.
May the pleasure and power for my lords increase,
May the land yield corn and the years bring peace.